Page 26 of Drive Me Wild (Drive Me #2)
TWENTY-SIX
JOSIE
From the deck of the Walker family residence just outside of Melbourne, I watch as the sun fades from a vibrant red to a dull yellow. The conversation around me plays like background music as I snuggle further under Theo’s arm as the soft seaside landscape disappears from the final rays of light hiding behind the sea. It’s a perfect, peaceful night before the craziness tomorrow’s race will bring.
He presses his lips against my temple as he listens intently while his mum and sister discuss a new boutique that’s opened in town. He’s been unusually quiet today, not even taking the bait when Charlotte regaled us with a story that ended with her spending the night locked in the home decor section of a department store. There’s no doubt in my mind he’s keeping to himself to avoid lashing out at Richard. Every time his mum’s boyfriend speaks, his protective hand resting on my thigh subconsciously squeezes tighter. We’ve made it through the day with minimal snarky comments, and I pray we can finish off the night in a civil manner, too.
“Josie, Theodore said you’ve been doing some freelance work,” Mrs. Walker says. She pokes the flames in the fire pit with a stick and they roar upward, as if reaching for the sky.
“Yes,” I say, flushing under the attention. “I’m helping out with some marketing projects.”
Charlotte shoots me a supportive smile. “Social media and that kind of stuff, right, Jos?”
“Yes, lots of brand building: content creation, developing promotional campaigns, SEO for the website. Those sorts of things.”
I’ve never worn so many hats in my life. Gemini’s flexing a creative muscle that’s been stiff with inactivity at McAllister.
“And this is freelance ?” Mrs. Walker asks with a hand over her chest. “Not even your full-time job?”
Theo kisses the top of my head. “My princess is a true marketing genius, eh?”
“Then can she try to get your social media accounts under control?” Charlotte teases. “Because your thirst trap Thursdays are getting a little ridiculous. And don’t even get me started on your sweaty Saturday posts. Who in their right mind wants to watch you exercise with Russell? All you do is grunt.”
Although neither of them will ever admit it, Charlotte takes after Theo with her lack of filter, need for adventure, and role as the life of the party. It’s probably why Theo constantly worries about her. He morphs into a mother hen around her, which is rather cute.
Theo blows air out of his nose. “Josie happens to enjoy when I gr?—”
I dig my nails into his leg to stop him from finishing that sentence. It’s like his mind permanently resides in a gutter full of sexual innuendos.
“That’s great, Josie,” Mrs. Walker says, bringing the conversation back to safe territory. “Although it does sound rather stressful. And that’s coming from the woman who raised these two.”
Theo chuckles, but Mrs. Walker’s right. It is stressful—more stressful than I was anticipating. I’m frustrated that McAllister continues to undervalue my work and ideas, and I’m frustrated that there aren’t enough hours in the day to do everything I want for Gemini.
“You good?” Theo murmurs softly. “It’s getting late.”
“‘Course.” I give him a small smile. “You?”
He clandestinely rolls his eyes to where Richard’s arm is wrapped around his mum’s shoulders. I’ll take that as a no. As if his ears are ringing, Richard says, “Theo, your contract is up at the end of the season, right? Have you given any thought to next year?”
Oof. Abort mission, buddy. Take cover. Not only are contract negotiations top secret, but it’s one subject Theo does not enjoy discussing. The most he’s told me is that Martin’s “ironing out some details,” and even then, his whole body stiffens like he’s under siege. I’ve told him to fight the social media clause, but that’s as much as he’ll let me say before he changes the subject.
Theo gives a brief nod of acknowledgement but doesn’t say anything in response. I watch as Richard’s smile falters, unsure of how to proceed. It’s been like this the whole night. Richard offering an olive branch and Theo snapping it in half with a single look. Theo used to like Richard quite a bit. It’s his role as their mum’s boyfriend that he doesn’t seem to agree with.
“Do you think you’ll re-sign?” he tries again.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Theo snaps. “Think I’m not a good enough driver?”
Oh boy.
“Contracts are complicated,” I interject, as if I know anything about sports law. “Lots of…details. And, um, other things to sort through. Legal jargon and big words. But Theo’s manager is great so I’m sure he’ll work through everything.”
Legal jargon and big words? Jeez, Josie, way to wow them with your intelligence.
“Well, you know I’m happy to talk anything through,” Richard says with a nod. “Take a look before you cross your T’s and dot your I’s.”
I try to change the subject, sensing Theo’s brewing emotions, but I don’t get the change to before he snaps, “Yeah, sure. Just like before, right?”
“Exactly,” Richard agrees, not at all catching onto Theo’s fighting words.
I would not describe the laugh my boyfriend lets out as nice. If anything, it’s a little maniacal, especially when he adds, “You seriously think anything can be like how it was before?”
“Nothing’s changed, Theo,” Richard says, his calm voice more likely irritating Theo than balancing him.
“ Everything’s changed,” Theo yells, throwing his hands up. “Look around you, Richard. My dad’s not here. You are . Ever since you two started dating, everything’s changed. Instead of being a friend to me—hell, a friend to my dad—you’re dating my mum and acting as if that position was always rightfully yours. Are you that fucking blind that you don’t realize things can never go back to the way they were?”
Silence covers everyone like a blanket—the only noise the crackle and hiss from the flames before us. Theo’s leg shakes at rapid-fire speed against mine, his nervous energy ready to erupt and cause the heat of the fire pit to look cool in comparison. I’ve heard Theo swear, curse, and yell, but I’ve never seen him as visibly agitated as he is now. The vein in his neck pulses and he clenches his jaw so tightly, I’m nervous his teeth will crack.
“Take a deep breath, Theodore,” Charlotte says sternly. “Richard and Mum are allowed to be happy.”
“Of course they are,” Theo says flatly. “Can’t have Dad, so may as well go for the next best thing, right, Mum? His best friend?”
“Don’t talk to your mother that way, Theo,” Richard says, raising his voice. “If you have a problem with me, then take it up with me. Not her.”
“Hey, Richard?” The sharpness of his voice makes me shift in my chair. “Fuck off.”
“Theo!” Mrs. Walker cries out. Tears threaten to spill down her round cheeks and she looks upward, as if heaven will have the answer on how to handle this. “Have some respect. Please.”
He whips his head around so he’s facing his mum again. His lips thin with rage—they’re pursed so tightly the color in them is fading. “Respect? Don’t talk to me about respect, Mum. You?—”
“Theo,” I interrupt him. “Take a walk and cool off.”
Charlotte’s simultaneously fighting off tears and the urge to throttle her brother. “Jesus. Why can’t you let Mum be happy? Dad’s gone. Being an asshole isn’t going to change that.”
“Oh. Wow. Thanks for the update. I had no idea Dad’s gone since none of you talk about him. Ever. It’s like he never existed.”
“That’s not true,” Charlotte says fiercely. Her voice is harsh, but a shakiness has edged its way in.
“Isn’t it? I work my arse off three hundred and sixty-five days a year to make sure Dad’s legacy lives on. What do you do? Oh, right. You welcomed Richard in like a goddamn understudy for Dad. Well, enjoy. I hope you’re all really happy.”
Theo bolts from his chair and stomps across the deck without another word. I wait a few moments before noiselessly excusing myself to find him.
Part of me wants to locate him, drag his arse back, and make him work things out with his family. But the other part of me—the realistic side—knows that’s not an option. I can support him, but in the end, this is his fight, not mine. Family are the people who love you at your worst just as much as they do when you’re at your best. It can be an uncomfortable reality.
I find him pacing the driveway with his shoulders hunched forward. My heart sinks as I study him—his sharp cheekbones stained with tears that glisten against the moonlight. I’m not sure how much time passes before he notices me. Once he does, he silently makes his way over to me, draws me into his arms, and buries his head into the crook of my neck.
“That was a shit storm, eh? Made my mum cry,” he murmurs after a minute. “Are they alright?”
“They will be.” I run my hand up and down his back, loving how tight and toned he feels against my palms and fingers. “Are you okay, baby?”
Theo doesn’t respond right away, and when he does, his voice is low and laced with uncertainty. “I’ve never lashed out like that.”
An unspeakable pain grips me by the throat. There’s nothing I can say or do to make him feel better. It’s the worst kind of heartbreak. I want to put him in a bubble where nothing and no one can hurt him. Wrap him up so tightly that he forgets about his pain and only feels a calm and everlasting bliss. Instead, I just press my forehead against his and whisper, “I’m sorry.”
“Do you think I’m a terrible person?”
I nod. “Yes, but only because you sleep with socks on.”
“Cheeky.” He chuckles. “What about them? Do they think I’m horrible?”
Shaking my head, I rub my hands up and down his arms. “No, Theo, they don’t. They may want to kill you sometimes, but they still love you.”
“I sure as hell make it difficult.”
“Loving you is easy, baby.” I chuckle into his chest. “The hard part would be trying to stop.”